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Your body aches with dull pain as the last bits of the transformation is carried out. Soon enough, the costume you put on is virtually indistinguishable for your own body. You gawked at your hands and flexed your newly formed claws. “W-Wha… What is this?!” You rush to the nearest mirror in your room to confirm your worst nightmare, you had been transformed into a carbon copy of Renamon. As you run your hands over your new body, your heart races as you come to the shocking realization that this is indeed your body. Every tuft of fur belongs to you. With a held breath, you turn around and look your shoulder. If you had any lingering doubt, it was thrown out of the window. Extending from your tailbone was a giant, fluffy tail. When you willed it, it waved. Definitely yours.

 

“H-How the heck did this happen?!” You cry out, trying to wrap your mind around these improbable circumstances. “All I did was put on a stinkin’ costume!” You scratch at your new fur, trying to find anything that could help remove or reserve the transformation, but to no avail. You actually winced, feeling how sharp your claws were. This was beyond a prank. There was some sort of magic, witchcraft, or sorcery at work. It was the only explanation you could find.

 

Then, all of a sudden, you felt lightheaded, your inner voice telling it was best to get some rest. A haze started to fill your mind, lulling you to sleep. You glanced over at the clock on your desk to see it was eight o’clock PM. It was still early, and you never recalled your biological clock working like this before. Then again, all the other times you had neglected sleep, you wound up regretting it in the morning. “Let’s just say I fell asleep in my cereal bowl and leave it at that.” You said inwardly.

 

You shook your head, realizing off-track you were getting. “Wait, why am I talking about? I need to figure out what’s going on and how to fix it!” Unfortunately, the minute you took a step, your head swam. Your inner voice was telling you to please get some sleep and worry about it in the morning. Thinking with a heavy head did no favors.

 

With an exasperated sigh, you trudged over to your bed. You wobbled a little unaccustomed to your new biology, even falling over literally inches from your bed. You groped around and grabbed the mattress itself, pulling yourself up. Taking no more chances, you threw yourself onto an array of pillows and blankets. An animalistic hiss escaped your mouth as you felt the weight of your body on your tail. You instantly turn over on your side and massage the sore appendage. That was apparently something you would have to get used to for the time being.

 

The dull ache persisting within your new body finally died down, and you released a sigh of content. Now that you were relaxing, you mulled over this bizarre situation. You put on the costume to check and see if it fit for a convention later on this week. Of course, you bought the ensemble over the Internet on Ebay since neither you nor any of your friends had expertise in textile work. This was the cheapest find, and nothing in the description alluded to it being infused with some magical mumbo-jumbo that apparently turned you into a Renamon herself.

 

“Dang, man, what am I going to tell everyone else?” Your thoughts naturally drifted to your friends and family. Obviously, you couldn’t go out and tell them you’re you without them calling the police or animal control. Nobody would believe you. You trembled, and your heart beat faster at the notion of the people closest to you ostracizing you like an outcast. Quite frankly, it frightened you.

 

You managed to get under the covers but neglected to turn off the nightstand. All there was left to do was to get some sleep. Unfortunately, the chilling events that just transpired were still fresh on your mind. You couldn’t be blamed. Sleep was the last thing on your mind, but it was begging for it. Perhaps the answer will come to you in a dream? Will the transformation reserve after a good night’s rest? As you contemplated these slightly more hopeful possibilities, you were put at ease. After all, you needed something pleasant to think about, or you’d definitely have a nasty case of insomnia. That wouldn’t help at all.

 

Eventually, after just lying there for about six or seven minutes, you thought about the convention again. Your group of friends were going as the cast of Digimon Tamers with you as Renamon. You got stuck with the role because you all literally drew names out of a hat. Not that you were complaining. The convention was supposed to be awesome. Practically every scrap of Digimon media was going to be featured. Nothing but fun and wilding out as fans.

 

This is what you fell asleep thinking about.



Written by grade-amasterpiece on 30 March 2016


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